


Plan Of Attack

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Spanking, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:11:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on anon prompt at kink meme, based on a picture of a man seated on a sofa, ready to spank a woman on his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plan Of Attack

Moira couldn't calm herself down.

First she had listened a lecture about the new recruits, and how they caused material damage to the facility, after that she had spent an hour convincing the director and whole board of stuck up bureaucrats to permit the mission to Russia. Then there had been a whole another battle to let them appoint her as the team leader. She only got the job because no one else wanted to work with the freaks, the directors exact words. Moira tried to ignore the raging insult, both to her and the others, but it had been enormous strain to bite her tongue.

No matter how it happened, she got the job. So now she sat in empty office, staring at the tactical and risk analysis of the mission, and her nerves threatened to ruin all her hard work. Her skin crawled, like a swarm of biting, poisonous bugs. It had happened before, this feeling of shot nerves, but she couldn't leave the premises to acquire her usual fix, not without raising too many questions. She stared at the reports and tried to convince herself that she could do this, she had been trained to do this, her nerves were just fine.  
There was no bugs.

Moira concentrated so hard to keep herself together that she didn't realize Erik was in the room until he touched the back of her neck. Moira yelped in surprise. His hand felt heavy and warm against her skin, his thumb pressed against the soft spot under her ear. The touch was strange and intimate. For a fleeting moment Moira thought how simple it would be for him to kill her right here. Simply apply pressure at the right spot and it would be all over.

”Erik? What are you...”

”Charles send me.”

His hand didn't move, the pressure didn't change, and yet, there was a shift in his touch. Moira let out a shuddering breath, her hands gripping the stack of papers like it was her lifeline. For a moment nothing else happened. The warmth of Erik's touch spread through her, the solid weight settling on her. He was so firm and certain on everything, like nothing could shake him.  
Unlike Moira, who shook apart at the eve of her most important mission.

”I don't know if...”

”Stand up.”

There was no threat in his voice. He simply said it, and without thinking Moira obeyed. His hand didn't move from her neck, and gently he led her to the large leather couch that filled the other half of the office. Moira had always wondered how such a monstrous piece of furniture had ended up in here, but maybe it was for the nights like these.

He let go of her and without the warmth of his hand Moira felt bare and vulnerable. Erik sat down on the couch, the leather creaking underneath his weight. He waited for her to make up her mind. Moira took one step, then another, and before she could think what she was doing and with who, she was already draped across Erik's lap.

Moira placed herself the best she could. He had long legs, and hence a wide lap, but it wasn't hard to find a comfortable position, because she had equally long torso, so she fit well with him. She laid still, trying hard to relax. He was warm, and the leather couch was cool under her sweaty palms.

“Have you... Have you done this before?” Moira asked. It was perhaps foolish to ask this now, when she was already in his lap. Erik's left hand rested against the curve of her ass and anticipation made her shiver. Perhaps she didn't need to ask at all, if Charles had sent him here. But she wanted to know.

“Do you need a safe word?” He asked in turn, tracing the contour of her body. He didn't move her clothing, so the touch was mute, hard to pin down.

“Will you stop when I ask you to?”

“Yes.”

Moira believed him. Maybe it was stupid, because she didn't know him, not truly. Then again, she had to trust him tomorrow, trust that he was on their side, even if it was only to serve his own ends.

“Shall we?”

Moira nodded, her muscles tightening to anticipate the first slap. Erik simply stroked her, from waist to the hem of her skirt. It was not enough, and Moira pressed her head against the couch, to contain her urge to move. She had to trust herself into his hands, or this would do no good for her.

The first hit startled her, it was just a casual smack without much impact, followed with a few more in seemingly random way. It wasn't random, Moira knew it, and she tried to force herself to relax into it. He mapped out the terrain, testing what would work, planning three moves ahead.

That was what Moira was supposed to do, it was her team on the field tomorrow. Instead she laid on a strangers lap, ass up, waiting to be spanked like a child. She should be ashamed of herself, but she didn't feel like that at all.  
There was so much she could learn from him.

The first serious and calculated slap was hard and heavy. His hand was wide and he didn't hold back, using force with staggering accuracy. He had definitely done this before, Moira could tell. He didn't lift up her skirt, didn't touch her skin in any way, every slap landed against the wool, and yet, he made her skin tingle and burn. Moira bit her lip, trying hard not to let out any sounds. She wanted to moan and scream and pant and cry, all at once, but she just couldn't let go.

“I don't care if you make noise,” he said absentmindedly, the slaps falling down without pause. “No one will hear. Charles takes care of it.”

Moira shook her head, biting on her tongue harder. She wanted to contain the feeling, the sting and the pain, the warmth and the pleasure. It helped now, the memory would help her tomorrow, she knew it. Erik slowed down for a while, then sped up again, changing rhythms so she couldn't predict what he would do next. Some slaps were light and some were heavy, burning through the fabric of her skirt.

Suddenly Erik stopped. Moira sobbed against the leather, the sound clear in sudden silence.

“Do you have a plan for tomorrow?” Erik asked, rubbing her back with one hand, the other laying heavily against her ass.

“I have ten plans,” Moira muttered.

“Any of them good?” He kept rubbing her back, the cotton of her shirt making rustling sound. His warmth poured into Moira, like she was a dog, patted for good behavior.

“I don't know what good is,” Moira said, pushing against his hands. He squeezed her ass in warning and Moira relaxed back on his lap. “All of them could work.”

“The only thing that matters is that you don't get us killed.”

“That's all?”

“Yes. Shall we continue?”

“Please, please?”

The slap was hard, fast and absolutely glorious. Moira screamed, falling into his touch, falling into him.  
It was that easy.


End file.
